


Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

by amadeusofnohr



Series: FE Femslash Weeks 2018 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bad Poetry, Canon Compliant, F/F, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, ambiguous timeframe, courting, my attempt at one at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 00:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amadeusofnohr/pseuds/amadeusofnohr
Summary: Mitama agrees to go on a date with Soleil under one condition: She must first bring her an original poem that meets her standards.(For FE Femslash Week 2018, day 7: free for all)





	Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

**Author's Note:**

> let's just pretend everyone has their own room in Corrin's weird magical alternate dimension base castle/fort thing

“Mitama! I want to court you!” Soleil declares, pointing dramatically at said teen. Mitama looks up from her writing and stares blankly back at her.

“Pray tell, what would this entail?” Soleil flashes a grin, gesturing emphatically with her hands as she replies.

“I’d bring you flowers and gifts! Homemade pastries, fresh roses, stuffed animals, the whole five yards. I’ll stand wistfully outside your window, reciting heartfelt poetry to make you swoon.” Mitama taps her quill against her lips thoughtfully.

“Poetry, you say? I shall accept your offer, under one condition.” Soleil bursts out into happy cheering before she can finish speaking. Mitama clears her throat. Soleil snaps her mouth closed and mimes locking it shut, throwing the invisible key away behind her shoulder.

“To me you must bring / An original poem / To earn a first date.” She bounces on her toes, saluting eagerly.

“You won’t know what hit you!” She promises, dashing out of Mitama’s room so she can get started. She’s halfway back to her own room when she realizes a major problem with that request. The last time she tried to read a poem to a girl, she had been laughed away and had promptly burnt the cursed thing to ashes. She’s going to need assistance, or Mitama’s going to never want to see her ever again.

“Ophelia!” She wails, knocking on the mage’s door furiously. There’s no response, so she presses her ear against the door to listen for any sign of life. It’s possible Ophelia’s out, but she can always just wait here.

The door swings inwards and Soleil stumbles forward. Ophelia raises an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

“I take it you want something from me?”

It’s kind of embarrassing to be figured out so quickly. Soleil clutches at her chest, eyes filling with sorrow.

“You wound me, dear Ophelia! I can visit my bestest friend whenever I want with no ulterior motives whatsoever.” Ophelia crosses her arms.

“I am always willing to provide my assistance to the less gifted, but I cannot help if you do not tell me what it is you seek.” Soleil sighs.

“Mitama said she’ll date me-”

“Congratulations! You’re pining was becoming insufferable.” Ophelia interrupts, eyes sparkling with mirth. Soleil scowls and elbows her.

“But I need to impress her with a poem first. You like books and scrolls and stuff, yeah? So you can help me write one!” Ophelia purses her lips.

“It is true that my Chosen status blesses me with an unprecedented way with words….” Soleil clasps her hands together and gives Ophelia her best puppy dog-eyes.

“Oh, alright. Stop it with the pathetic look, and let’s get writing!” Soleil hugs her tightly.

Within a few hours, they manage to come up with a draft of a poem. Soleil knew that Mitama liked to write haikus, and Ophelia assured her that they could easily write something that fit that format.

It isn’t even dinner time when they finish. Soleil stares uneasily at the piece of parchment in her hand.

“Do you really think this will work?” Ophelia pats her on the shoulder reassuringly.

“If not, we can just write another one.” Soleil takes a deep breath.

“Alright. I’m off, then.” She leaves before Ophelia can attempt to cast a good luck charm on her. The past few times she did all turned out disastrous.

She finds Mitama lounging near a practice field, her staff resting idly in her lap.

“You completed a poem so quickly?”

“You come up with them on the spot all the time. I may not be as good at them as you, but I’ve got charm and determination to make up for it!”

 Mitama gestures for her to begin. Soleil unwraps the scrap of paper that she’d nervously crumbled while searching for Mitama and smooths it out. She can’t bring herself to look Mitama in the eye while reading it, which is really for the better since she doesn’t have the thing memorized.

“It’s a haiku,” she explains before clearing her throat. “Maiden born under heaven’s stars / Healing innocents of ravaged lands from afar-” Mitama whacks her on the head with her staff. The paper flutters to the ground as Soleil clutches the lump on her head pathetically.

“ _That_ was not a haiku. And it wasn’t even written by you.” Soleil deflates.

“How’d you know?”

“Vocabulary / Unique to only a few / Among them not you.”

“I consulted Ophelia,” she admits. “I figured she’d be better at writing poems than me. I’m rubbish with artsy stuff like that.”

Mitama stands up, waving her staff as a second thought, healing the bruise she caused.

“Do not overthink this. However, it wasn’t the worst first try I’ve ever seen. Effort expended / A reward to encourage / Future endeavors.”

Soleil cocks her head in confusion. Mitama places her staff under Soleil’s chin and tilts it upwards, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

“After one that meets my standards, we can get tea. I’m off to bed now. Slumber beckons me forth.” Soleil gapes at her as she leaves. Mitama really _does_ like her back! That just means she needs to step things up in the poem department. She needs to pull out the big-boy tomes. Consult people close to Mitama, and then do something of her own.

This time, she’s going to hunt down Shigure.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Shigure covers a laugh with his hand when she tells him about Mitama’s challenge.

“You’re her brother,” she continues, undaunted. “Surely you know what she’d like.” He takes a moment to think.

“You could try singing to her. She always tells me that singing is its own form of poetry, and it would show creativity.” Soleil considers it. She’s far from the world’s greatest singer, but maybe Mitama will appreciate her willingness to embarrass herself.

“Do you have a song I could use? I’ll pay you back somehow, I swear.” Shigure smiles softly.

“I know just the thing. And don’t worry.” His smile grows wider, scarily wider. “As long as you make her happy, you don’t need to do a thing.” The aura he’s giving off promises terrible things in her future if she doesn’t. She salutes, too frightened to speak. He turns away to rummage through his desk.

“Here. I sung this to her all the time before bed when we were children.” Soleil takes it and examines it closely. Theoretically, she knows how to read sheet music. She can make this work.

The next morning, Soleil heads to Mitama’s room bright and early. It’s easy to get up early when you didn’t sleep. She’d spent all night practicing, and needs to perform before she forgets it all. She rounds the final corner only to trip, her face smashing right into the stone ground. Her hands come away from her nose streaked with red, which she immediately tries to rub off on her pants.

“I am awakened / Fortuitous accident / Good morning to you.”

The thing she tripped over was Mitama, who mumbled out her haiku while still curled up on the ground. Soleil turns to face her. This is her chance.

“I hope you’re ready for this. Listen up!” She doesn’t have paper to stare at this time, so she focuses on the wall behind where Mitama’s sprawled. She’s sure her voice is out of tune, she knows she can’t keep up the rhythm of the song, but she gives it her best shot. When she finishes, her voice is dry and raspy from the effort.

“How was that one? Mitama?” She looks back at her and…. She’s asleep. “Mitama!” The only response is a snore. Soleil sweatdrops. Well, that was a bust. She wipes the remaining blood from her nose and pokes at it, glad it’s not broken, then sits in silence, just watching Mitama. It dawns on her that this is probably a little creepy.

She gets to her feet, ready to go crash herself, but something stops her. Mitama’s still in the clothes she saw her in yesterday, meaning she’s probably been here since before dinner. Even though Mitama can sleep anywhere, the floor can’t be comfortable.

Soleil crouches down and hooks one arm under Mitama’s knees, the other around her shoulders, and lifts. She staggers the last few steps to Mitama’s room, but the bridal-carry doesn’t leave her hands free for door-opening. Instead, she kicks the thankfully unlocked door open. There’s some clutter on the floor, including, bizarrely, a couple of swords.

She makers her way to Mitama’s bed and sets her down gently. She pulls up the sheets to Mitama’s chin and combs her hair out of her face before withdrawing. She’s already turned away when a hand grasps at her shirt. Mitama’s looking at her blearily through one eye.

“I give you my thanks / A lullaby so peaceful / Made sleep’s grip too strong.” Soleil feels her lips turn upwards. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about her singing. She takes Mitama’s hand in hers, and she knows exactly what move to make to charm the pants off Mitama right now. She kisses the back of Mitama’s hand before returning it to the bed, and then leans over her to kiss her forehead.

“Next time I’ll have one that keeps you wide awake,” she promises before taking her leave. She’s ready to crash too, but she’ll do that in her own bed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

She spends the next few days trying to think of a poem that Mitama’ll like, that expresses how she feels about it. She doesn’t know if there’s any words out there that can capture that, but she has to try _something_.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. She loves her dad, she really does, but he’s not the best at wooing ladies. But, he did manage to win over her mom, so he must have some wisdom to impart.

He nods sagely as she explains.

“You need to do this yourself.” She goes to interrupt, and he holds up a hand to stop her. “You’re my darling daughter. I’d listen to you even if you were talking about the most boring topic on the earth. It’s the same principle. She just wants to hear something from your heart, even if it isn’t a top quality poem.” It makes perfect sense.

“You’re the best!” She latches onto him for a hug. He returns it fondly.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Now go make Daddy proud!” He flashes her a grin and a thumbs up.

She doesn’t bother with paper this time, and heads straight for Mitama’s room.

She knocks on the door boldly, standing at her full (unimpressive) height.

Mitama opens it and smiles. Her hair is sticking everywhere, like she was just napping. The sight makes Soleil’s heart weak.

“My hair is pink / Your hair is blue / I’m crap at poems / But I like you / Let’s go on a date / It’ll be great! / We can drink tea / Just you and me.” She goes silent. Mitama lights up, eyes sparkling, and claps.

“Absolutely delightful! A poem so heartfelt / I cannot help but agree / We should be girlfriends.” Soleil grabs her hands and squeezes them tightly.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she confesses. Mitama swings their hands between them.

“I will admit to mostly wanting to see you splutter.” Soleil fakes a scowl.

“Rude!”

“You’re awfully cute when you blush.” Soleil goes red.

“Ah, yes. Just like that. Now, what were you saying about tea?”

Soleil knows the perfect place, in a town not too far from their base’s current exit portal.

“They’ve got an open floor for poetry and fiction reading tonight.”

“Then let us make haste.”

Soleil turns to lead the way, tugging Mitama’s hands along with her. It’s going to be the best first date ever.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is welcome, as always. I couldnt believe this wasnt written yet, so someone had to do it.


End file.
